Stumbling through the Swordcoast

Navigating Gorizzbad

7

OCT/12

Seeking the “Kindling Supply”

“Yeh, I can see it!” whispered to his comrades below.

From atop the red-tiled roof, Fargrim could see the old library about a mile to the east. Scanning the crumbling city of Gorizzbad, he could see plenty of activity — busy creatures running to and fro amongst courtyards; warm fires glowing within a few of the city’s old buildings. Off at the east end of town, he could see a huge manor home. Smoke rose from the chimney, and the rowdy sound of shouting, dancing, and laughing could be heard, even from this far away. His sharp ranger’s eyes caught a subtle movement nearby, and he saw something quickly dart away from a window. As quietly and as quickly as he could, Fargrim began to lower himself back down again to inform the waiting party.

“How are we going to get through these winding slums without alerting something— or someone to our presence?” Seraphina fretted. As a paladin, she preferred the simple and direct approach. She was more comfortable swinging a blazing blade of righteousness at a foe than actively trying to avoid its attention. Nathaniel smiled “Oh, you’ve alerted someone to your presence already, m’lady…”

Vulpin simply chuckled “Nothing to worry about, chaps. Just follow my lead, and they’ll never know we were here.” He flashed a a single gold tooth that shone brightly in the foggy alley. “Tight alleys, broken cobblestones, danger lurking around every corner? Why,” he stowed away his short bow, and dipped around the closest corner “I’m right at home!”

And, surprisingly enough, Vul was true to his word. With silent gestures and signals, he guided the party toward their destination — the library and ultimately the Ninth Slaying Stone. After twenty minutes of navigating the corridors, they spied a kobold scout poking its head around the next corner. With a gleam in his eye, Vul whispered “Let’s give ‘em a good knock, what’ya say?” All seemed to agree, and the poor kobold shrieked as a rain of axes and magic-infused insults fell upon him. Within seconds, half a dozen other kobolds appeared in the alleyway and from hidden passageways. Fargrim, a bit overwhelmed with so many possibilities, just stood with his mouth agape while his comrades launched into the fray. Seraphina charged up set of broken stairs, blinding and slashing everything before her with holy fervor. One kobold, peeking around a corner to fling handfuls of junk at Lucan, suddenly felt the world go blurry and he dropped his artillery. Seconds later, Loup leaped upon him and the world went black.

Once the kobold guttersnipes had been easily dispatched (550 XP), and Fargrim was wiping copious amounts of blood from his axes, Seraphina spoke up. “I’ve faced these creatures before,” she said. She walked toward one of the kobolds that was still alive, breathing heavily; “They usually move in packs, and are almost always found near a dragon of some kind that they worship.” Before she could say anymore, Vul drew his sword, advanced on the wounded kobold, and demanded, “Listen, you little weasel — we know you’re with a Gold Dragon. Now, where is it!?” The pathetic creature looked from man to woman to dwarf. Spitting up a little blood he sputtered “Me no know about thems gold dragon.” Nathaniel slapped the creature across his snout "Well, where is the Slaying Stone then, you bastard?! We know you have it you miserable little — " Fargrim interrupted him, “Can you take us to the library? We’re here to kill goblins.” The kobold’s face relaxed a bit, and with a healing spell from Seraphina, he agreed to show them the safest way to the Library.

Fifteen minutes later, they stood across the street from the great Library. Tall and grand it once stood… though today it looked like it had gone through a hurricane. Windows blown out and singed, a huge chunk of the roof caved in, and signs of magical burns all across the door face. “I’ve got an idea!” whispered Lucan, and he signaled Fargrim to accompany him. Fargrim nodded, and the two made their way toward the main entryway of the the “Kindling Supply” (as the kobold called it). As they crouched outside the door, Lucan smiled and murmured “Ready? Three, two one—…” But the party never got to see his plan unfold. For at that very moment, Fargrim’s heel brushed up against a hidden alarm system made of bones. The bones loudly clattered together and Fargrim’s face contorted as he whispered “Mother rockhucker…” A scream went up from inside the Library, and the party rushed to the front door as panicked goblins drew their swords and made ready for an assault…

. . .

Rort was having the most splendid week! Ever since that fat old hobgoblin had promoted him to Boss of Blowing-Stuff-Up, he’d been able to do whatever he wanted. Rort’s mother always said he was an exceptionally bright goblin, and by the time he was ten, he could even read a few words! Oh, if only mommy-Glurzz could see him now. She’d be so proud!*
*The black flowing robe he found in a trunk made him feel important. The first goblin that laughed at him for it being too big was sent flying across the room as a stream of flame launched from Rort’s spellbook. That taught the little maggot eater, hehehehehe! Now, he could boss around any stinky goblin he pleased, probably even The Boss. Two days before, he found a handful of lazy drunk goblins nursing a hangover in the Looting Grounds. He bragged that he was now the Boss of Blowing-Stuff-Up, and they had better come be his bodyguards if they didn’t want to get Blowed Up! Those lazy slugs weren’t too bright, but they knew enough that getting Blowed Up was bad.*
*The last two days had been especially fun! Rort consumed every spell book he could get his claws on, creating magical familiars, and even conjuring great balls of flame! The other goblins loved his “fire-works” as they called them, and eventually stopped even pretending to guard the Kindling Supply. After all, what could bother them? Those stupid, sniveling kobolds jumped at their own shadows! Sure, The Boss might come check on him, but he’d surely love how much stuff Rort had Blowed Up. Nothing could get this far into Gorizzbad without alerting the patrols, and what would somebody want with these dumb old books anyway?*
*Well, call it goblin paranoia, or just a gut feeling, but Rort still wanted something in place to alert him of danger. Maybe a simple alarm or trap… after all one can’t be too careful…
**__
. . .

Fargrim was the first through the door, hurling axes across the room, then darting through a narrow passageway. The shocked goblins, grabbed for their swords, leaped over tables, and came up swinging at Lucan. In his duress Lucan attempted to dodge the whirring blades, but one sliced him across the shoulder, cutting him deep. Rort, in the meanwhile, shrieked in panic, grabbed a random book off the shelf, and starting chanting its words. A monstrous grey ooze leapt from the pages of the spell book and began to crawl toward the party. Rort cackled maniacally, screaming “Rort make you blowed up, and slime make you bones soft!! HEEHEheheh!” But the smile suddenly fell from his face as one, then two, then three other adventurers stormed through the front door… He screamed again and ran for another book…

The battle was chaotic and frantic. Vul used the mayhem to his advantage — jumping along the walls, twirling into the fray, swinging a sword (and occasionally missing), then tumbling back out again. Lucan closed his eyes, slowed down his pounding heart, and focused on the simple minds of the goblins before him. One by one, their mental defenses failed as he crushed their will to fight and struck terror into their hearts. The goblins began swinging wildly, connecting more with chair legs than with foes. Seraphina shouted over the fray “Stay by my side, these beasts will have to get through me first!”

A second massive ooze appeared before Rort, then a bolt of lighting arced across the room, blasting Lucan against a wall. Rort began to smile again, until he turned his head and saw an enraged dwarf charging alongside a grey wolf — straight at him. The dwarf leaped over the table, screaming “I’m comin’ for yer head, ya wizard-y beastie!!” Rort reached for another book, and tried to slip behind the safety of ooze. But Fargrim was too quick, knocking Rort through the air, as he collapsed against a book shelf.(600 XP)

Beneath a pile of books, the party could hear the poor creature loudly crying.

With stunning efficiency, the party scoured the library for clues. Seeing an alcove that had been pried open with large claw marks, they discovered a few bronze colored dragon scales. Nathaniel informed the group that bronze dragons love warm, dry spaces, and that they are not ones to hoard treasure. They might be negotiated with, and don’t respond kindly to threats of any kind. Needless to say, they’re quite vain. Pulling Rort from beneath the pile of books, the party was unable to glean any information about the whereabouts of the Slaying Stone (though he really wants one!) or any dragon. Rort didn’t seem to know much beyond the walls of the Kindling Supply, and he eagerly pointed out the locations of every book that Treona had requested. Certain that Rort would scuttle back to his masters if left alive, Vul stepped forward, and ran the goblin through with his short sword. It was probably more merciful than what The Boss would’ve done, anyway…